


Sword Play

by FishEyenoMiko



Category: Berserk
Genre: Caretaking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Military, Non-Penetrative Sex, Ownership, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 02:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5726119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishEyenoMiko/pseuds/FishEyenoMiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Guts lost that fateful duel to Griffith, he offered him his sword.  Griffith decides to take Guts up on his offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sword Play

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: [AvatarMN](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AvatarMN)

Guts slowly regained consciousness. He could feel someone gently dabbing at his wounds. Opening his eyes, he was surprised to find that it was Griffith who was tending to him.

"G... Griffith?"

"Ah, you're awake," Griffith said with a smile. "Try not to move too much, your left arm is in pretty bad shape."

Guts nodded. "Why are _you_ doing this?" He smirked. "Isn’t it a bit below your station?"

Griffith gave a light chuckle. Gently applying salve to a wound on Guts' cheek, he replied, "You're mine, Guts. It's occurred to me that _I_ should be the one to take care of my things."

While it was true that this was pretty much what he'd agreed to when he lost his duel with Griffith, Guts found being referred to as a "thing" disconcerting. But looking up at Griffith's beautiful smile, Guts decided he could learn to live with it.

Setting down the salve, Griffith wiped his hands. Then he began undoing Guts' pants.

"Er, what-"

"Relax, Guts. You have wounds on your legs that need to be looked at."

"Oooh... okay."

With that, Griffith removed Guts' trousers and began tending to the wounds on his legs. 

Reaching over, Guts pulled his blanket over his crotch region. Griffith laughed and shook his head, but kept to his work.

Guts noticed it was a good deal cooler being almost naked. It was a hot day, and even being indoors didn't stop him from noticing the heat.

Griffith finally finished with that he could do for Guts' wounds at the moment. He sat back and wiped his brow. He pulled his shirt off, then removed the lace from the front of it. With practiced ease, he used the lace to tie his white hair up into a ponytail.

"This heat is unbelievable."

"Yeah," said Guts, wiping his own brow.

"Let me," said Griffith, dipping a clean cloth into clean, cold water. Then he dabbed Gut's face. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Griffith smiled.

Sitting back, Griffith untied the drawstring on his pants. Getting up on his knees, he began to pull them down. He looked at Guts. "Oh. You don’t mind?"

"Uh, no, it's fine," Guts replied. He'd seen Griffith naked before, after all.

Nodding, Griffith finished stripping. He sighed as he sat bare naked on the floor. "That's much better."

Guts looked at his left arm, which was bandaged. Now that he was awake and not occupied, he could feel the pain.

"Is it all right?" Griffith asked.

"It's fine," said Guts. "I've had worse." He turned and smiled at Griffith. "Like getting stabbed in the chest, and having my shoulder dislocated."

Griffith chuckled. Then he looked thoughtful. 

Getting up, Griffith walked over to where Guts kept his supplies. He got out a small bottle of oil and a cloth.

"You don't have to do that," said Guts. "I can clean my sword later."

Griffith walked back over, standing on Guts' right side. Guts looked up at the man. Griffith was looking at down him with a look that was a bit threatening.

"... Griffith?"

The other man blinked; his expression immediately softened. He smiled down at Guts, then sat down. He set the oil down and opened it.

"What are you doing...?"

Giving him a smile, but not an answer, Griffith reached down and pulled aside the blanket covering Guts.

"Griffith!" Guts made to cover his crotch.

"Relax, Guts," said Griffith, pulling Gut's hand away. Picking up the oil, Griffith poured a bit of it onto his hand. "When we dueled, you told me that if I won, I could have your sword. It's mine now, and I have to keep it in good condition."

With that, Griffith reached down and slid his oil-covered hand along Guts' flaccid cock.

Guts let out a cry. 

"Th-that's not the sword I--ah!" Griffith stroked him again, and Guts' cock started to respond.

"Relax, Guts," Griffith said again, "I'm going to take care of you." He continued to pump Guts gently.

Despite his misgivings, Guts did as he was told.

Looking down, Guts watched as Griffith's long, pale fingers stroked his throbbing, hardening cock. Looking up he saw that Griffith's blue eyes were focused intently on Guts' face. It was actually a little unsettling. 

Hoping to break the tension, Guts smiled. He reached down, putting his hand on top of Griffith's. Griffith pushed his hand away. Then he sat back and wiped his hand with the cloth.

"Um..." Guts looked down at his half-hard cock.

"I said I would take care of you, and I will," Griffith said. 

Reaching across Guts, Griffith gently moved the man's injured left arm. Then he shifted over, straddling Guts' hips.

"Griffith..."

Griffith lowered himself down onto Guts' thighs. He leaned forward, smiling down at Guts.

Guts' heart began racing. He closed his eyes, trying to relax. The thought of someone over him like this; of a man-

"Guts?" Griffith's voice cut through Guts' thoughts. Griffith, his friend and comrade. Griffith, who, for all his talk of Guts "belonging to him", surely would never-?

" _Guts_." Griffith's tone was firm. It was the tone he used when giving orders. "Open your eyes, Guts."

Guts managed to open his eyes. Looking up, he saw Griffith's beautiful, pale face looking down at him. A lock of his hair had come loose and was dangling next to his cheek. On a whim, Guts reached up and twined the hair around his fingers. Griffith smiled.

Gently pulling Guts' fingers out of his hair, Griffith sat back. Leaning over, he picked up the bottle of sword oil. Opening the bottle, he poured some more onto his palm. Guts was surprised when, instead of continuing with him, Griffith wrapped his hand around his own cock. 

As he worked himself to hardness, Griffith kept his eyes on Guts. Guts found himself unsure if he should watch what Griffith was doing or meet his gaze. As if realizing this, Griffith looked down. Following his gaze, Guts saw Griffith stroking himself. He worked slowly, deliberately; Guts realized he was doing it as much for show as for arousal. Guts smiled. Griffith smiled back.

Griffith stopped to apply more oil to his fingers. As he did, he slid forward on Guts' legs. He tilted forward, pressing his balls against Guts'. Guts gasped at the contact. He reached forward.

"No," said Griffith softly, using his free hand to brush Guts' hand away again. "I'll tell you if there's something I want you to do."

"O-okay," Guts replied, letting his hand fall to his side.

Griffith slid forward a bit more. Reaching down, he ran an oil-slicked finger along the underside of Guts' prick. He'd gone soft, but the gentle, intimate touch aroused him again. He moaned, arching up. Griffith laughed lightly, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on his partner.

Guts' hard cock bumped against Griffith's. Griffith rocked his hips, making their cocks rub together. Guts moaned, arching up to make it happen again. Griffith let out a gasp, his eyes widening in surprise. Guts couldn't help but smirk. Griffith narrowed his eyes, but then relaxed and smiled.

Reaching down, Griffith put his hands around both of their pricks. Then he leaned over, supporting himself with his free hand. Looking at Guts with a wicked smile, Griffith began thrusting his hips. 

Guts groaned as Griffith's cock rubbed against his own. "Oh God, Griffith..." 

Griffith's grin grew wider, and he leaned further down. As he did, Guts felt something against his chest. Looking down, he saw Griffith's Behelit touching his chest. 

"Uh, Griffith..."

Griffith looked down. He smirked. "It really bothers you?"

"Yes," Guts replied. "It's fucking creepy."

Shaking his head, Griffith sat up. With his free hand, he moved the Behelit so it hung down his back.

"Better?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Griffith leaned back down, again giving Guts a deep, penetrating look as he resumed thrusting back and forth. Guts moaned, his own hips rocking in response.

It was amazing, this intimate contact. For so long, the thought of being touched had disgusted him. But Griffith's touch never had... and now this...

"Oooh, God, Griffith..."

Griffith's smile widened; the rocking of his hips became more intense and his oil-slicked hand continued to stroke them.

Guts could feel his arousal reaching its peak.

"Griffith... I... uh... I..."

"Yes, Guts," Griffith whispered, putting his lips close to Guts'. "Come for me, Guts..." 

"Griffith..."

"Hmm, that's nice," Griffith practically purred. "I want hear my name on your lips when you come."

"Griff... uh..." Guts let out a whimpering moan as the orgasm overwhelmed him. It was more powerful than any he'd had on his own; indeed more powerful than he imaged they could be.

Guts was shaking and panting as he came down. When he was aware of his surroundings again, he realized that he was hot and sticky with sweat and... other fluids. He looked up to see Griffith smiling down at him. Looking down at Griffith's crotch, Guts saw that he hadn't come yet.

"It's all right," said Griffith lightly, "Just give me a moment..."

Griffith let go of Guts' cock, and it fell limply onto his stomach. Griffith gave his own cock a few slow, expert pumps. He sighed as he came, his ejaculate shooting onto Guts' stomach.

"That... that was..." Guts wasn't sure quite how describe it

Griffith smiled as he got off of Guts' legs. "Yes, quite."

Picking up another clean cloth, Griffith got it wet and wiped off Guts' stomach and chest. Rinsing the cloth, he then gently took hold of Guts' penis, slowly and thoroughly cleaning it.

Guts squirmed as Griffith cleaned him. Griffith smiled, clearly amused by Guts' reaction. 

When he was done, Griffith tossed the cloth onto a pile of laundry. As he did, Guts slid over a bit. "Why don't you lay down?"

Griffith shook his head. "I've got an army to run," he replied. "Do you need me to help you with your pants?"

"No," said Guts softly. He felt strangely empty at how abruptly Griffith was ending their... whatever the hell this was.

"All right," said Griffith, putting his own clothes on. "You get some rest."

"Yeah, okay."

Smiling, Griffith got to his feet. "I'll see you later."


End file.
